


ties that bind

by sarken



Category: Real News RPF
Genre: F/M, Pundit Kink Meme, Tie Porn, mild bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-07
Updated: 2009-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:26:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/pseuds/sarken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anderson ties Rachel to the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ties that bind

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pundit Kink Meme prompt _Anderson/Rachel, bondage_.

He binds her to the bed with Keith's ties, wrapping the silk around her wrists, weaving the fabric through the slats of the headboard. The pink one, the one Anderson loops around her left wrist, is the tie she stole from Keith's office. When she tucked it into her pocket, it was still warm from his body, but now it slides coolly and smoothly around her arm. Her right wrist, that one Anderson binds with the tie he took from Keith's bedroom: navy and silver, a border of metallic threads separating the stripes. The threads burn and sting as they rub against the thin skin of her wrists, making her nerves tingle hotly.

"You ready?" Anderson whispers in her ear, teeth sinking into her lobe, tugging until she whines, a soft mew that catches in her throat. Letting go, he traces the curve of her ear with the flat of his tongue, leaving it damp with saliva and sensitive to the cold. She shivers, and he smiles. "Yeah, you're ready."

It's curiosity that makes him push her shirt up, bunching the material above her breasts. He knows what this does to her mind, being tied up like this, her arms lifted over her head, but he wants to see what it does to her body.

Straddling her hips, he stares at her until a blush slides up her neck and spreads across her cheeks. When Rachel turns her head, that's when Anderson really looks at her, sees her breasts pulled flat and tight, notices the contrast of her nipples against her pale skin. He can almost feel them beneath his tongue, hard and warm, and he wets his lips in anticipation, tells himself to wait a few moments longer.

He traces the faint curve of her left breast, drawing her attention as he slides two fingers along the underside. She watches him with nervous eyes and parted lips, feeling the light, uncertain touch of his fingertips that leaves her wanting.

She licks her lips, pulls the lower one between her teeth, hesitant. She breathes deep, her bunched-up shirt feeling tighter, more restrictive as her lungs expand, filling with air. She holds her breath like that as long as she can, and then she breathes slowly out, the gentleness of Anderson's touch making her dizzy. "Tease," she accuses, her voice loud in the silent room. She tugs on her restraints and listens to the headboard creak, feeling her bad shoulder protest with it.

Anderson smirks and ducks his head, his hot mouth, too dry from nerves, closing around her hardened nipple. She arches into it, straining against Keith's ties and making the headboard moan as she presses into Anderson's mouth. He sucks, tongues, worries her nipple between his teeth, but without the slow, wet slide of his saliva across her skin, it's all torturous, maddening friction and no relief, the warmth of his hand against her ribcage and the soreness of her shoulders her only distractions.

His thumb pressing in the hollow between two ribs, Anderson takes his mouth away from Rachel's breast with one last slow, lazy swipe of his tongue. She moans, exhausted, her arms relaxing against her restraints as she tries to breathe, tries to think about something other than the aching want that has slid from her breasts to the spot between her thighs.

It doesn't work. Anderson's fingers, they wrap loosely around the zipper of her jeans, pulling so slowly that she can feel the teeth release, little by precious little, small vibrations that go straight to her clit, make her tug once more against the ties, feeling the subtle burn of silver threads against her wrist as her hips lift from the mattress.

His hand dips into the front of her jeans, sliding beneath the waistband of her cotton briefs, certain until his fingertips brush her curls. He looks at her then, makes eye contact as he seeks permission. She grants it wordlessly, her lips pressing together, her eyebrow arching, and then Anderson's fingers are inside her, two of them in one quick push, no timidity, no hesitance.

She's not ready, not expecting it, and her hips buck hard as she pulls against her restraints with her whole body, writhing when Anderson turns his attention to her clit before she can recover, her shoulder muscles screaming in counterpoint to the way his finger plays across her clit, making her lightheaded with a skill he shouldn't even have. Her hands clench into fists, nails biting into her palms, and, distantly, she can hear her own voice saying something over and over and over as Anderson makes her come with his hand down her pants and Keith's ties around her wrists.

When Anderson takes his hand out of her pants, trailing dampness low across her stomach, that's when Rachel remembers to breathe, her breath coming in the same deep inhalations as earlier, the kind that let her feel the restrictiveness of her pushed-up t-shirt with each expansion of her lungs. She can't, doesn't hold her breath this time, doesn't try to hold on to that feeling. Instead, she concentrates on the slow evening of her breathing as she watches Anderson fasten her jeans, roll down her shirt, and reach up to untie her restraints, carefully rolling the ties up.

Her arms are still stretched above her head, kept there voluntarily, when Anderson bends down to kiss her, a quick brush of his lips against hers.

"I'm going to go give Keith his ties back," he says.


End file.
